The price of bread  Possesion
by Shadow-Nightfall
Summary: AR : What if Will had choosen to break his fast with the Black Rider?
1. Chapter 1  Breaking the Fast

DiR ALTERNATIVE REALITY

"The price of bread - Possession"

What If - Will had accepted to break his fast with the black rider.

Will stretched out his hand to accept the proffered bread but then hesitated as the Feeling from the previous night, that of looking down into a great black pit and the same paralysing fear, hit him. But it was daylight now, no place for night time fears. It has been bad enough that last night that those fears had chased him from his attic room. Now he was afraid in _daylight_?! It was ridiculous! So what? A cloud had passed over the sun when he's first seen the man. That wasn't the man's fault was it? So the man appeared a little strange with his bright red-brown hair and black cloak and had a funny accent. He was probably a foreigner. So he knew his age. Lucky guess was all. Nothing to be alarmed about.

There was a brief burning smell that blotted out the smell of the bread as John the Smith continued his job of shoeing the black horse. For a split second Will almost refused the bread. But he was hungry. He took the warm bread and bit into it. It tasted as good as it smelt and yet.. he tingled, almost as if little jolts of electricity were running through his body. He felt light headed and almost feverish and briefly wondered if he was coming down with something. Then the same heavy sensation of the previous night, that of something trying to make him into something else came again, this time much stronger. He surrendered to it and it seemed that he was falling into the black pit. Marvelling, he wondered why the prospect of this had so frightened him before.

The smith was finishing the last shoe now. Then the black clad man was leading his horse away from the anvil towards the road. He and smith must have spoken to each other but Will was too disorientated to take any notice of anything. Then, as quickly as the tingling had come, it was gone.

He still feel a little light headed but that too was rapidly vanishing. He started to be able to see and register things again. The smith was hanging his tools up again. The dark robed man with the funny accent was gone.

"Come up, boy." The man's oddly accented voice came from above him, not drifting downwards gently but more like a stone dropping. Will spun around and his eyes were caught and held by the now mounted man's compelling blue ones. "I'll take you where you want to go. Riding is the only way, in snow as thick as this."

A vague warning sense flickered in Will's mind for the briefest of seconds telling him that to accept the offer would be very foolish, but a wild recklessness had suddenly taken hold of him. "Ok." he said and the black clad man helped him up to sit before the saddlehorn of the tall horse.

At his fumbling and the weight, the stallion turned his head and looked at his master. Was there the briefest hint of triumphal gleam in those dark horsey eyes in the instant before they turned away?

The man passed the reins over Will and a part of Will, the faint part that had warned him against not accepting the 'lift', that was now even fainter and dwindling away to nothing, made him think briefly of an animal hemmed in, unable to escape.

But that was stupid the rational part told him, the part that laughed at fears. I don't want to escape..

Will felt eyes upon him then and looking around saw John the smith watching him with what seemed to be unimaginable sadness. Will could almost see a 'why Will?' in his eyes. He didn't understand. It was just a bit of bread and a horse ride after all…

The man twitched the reins and the horse moved off, first in a walk then swiftly urged to a gallop by its master. The smooth workings of the animal's muscles and the fresh, cold air whipping at his face and hair, combined with his already reckless mood exhilarated Will. It was a if a fey part of him, the darker, bestial part of human nature that exists in all of us but which the greater majority manage to keep a firm leash on, had broken free of the chains that had bound it. Morality and consequences no longer held any meaning. Will felt that he could do anything.. _anything_! He laughed and behind him, unseen, the Black Rider smiled triumphantly. The hated Light had lost. They may have the Grail, but they could not decipher it and so it remained nothing more than a shiny, golden cup. Pretty, but essentially useless. And now with the last of the Old Ones in his power, their Circle would never be complete and the Great Signs were forever out of their reach. But, he smiled coldly, not out of the _Dark__'__s_ reach. There was no reason why the boy Will Stanton should not take up his predestined role as seeker of the Great Signs. No reason at all.

The sky had become much darker now, great black thunderheads racing with them overhead. Thunder rumbled around and behind them.

Then the gloom was pierced on the left by a flash of brilliant light. It caught the corner of Will's eye and he turned to look. The Rider too had noticed the strange flash. He turned to regard it though he already knew what was it was.

A great white horse was running abreast with them. It was truly a beautiful animal and Will marvelled at the sight, then blinked. For a moment he had thought that the animal had a slightly golden aura to it.

He felt the man behind him lean from the saddle to the horse. Will thought he shouted something at the animal but the wind whistled in Will ears and whipped the words away so that he didn't hear what was said.

But the White Mare of the Light heard. Looking once at the boy that should have been her passenger, she fell away with the words "You are too late. He has made his choice!" still ringing in her ears.


	2. Chapter 2  The Sign Seeker

He did not know where he was. Everything was black. It was so dark that he could not tell if his eyes were open and seeing nothing or if they were closed and himself dreaming.

The blackness blotted out all. It invaded his being until the only thing that he could remember was a wild and exhilarating ride against a storm.

Gradually he became aware that a point of flickering orange light had appeared and seemed to be bobbing toward him in a zig zag pattern. With each zig or zag, another orange light would appear. Will stared at the phenomena in fascination until it dawned upon him that someone with a torch was approaching and lighting torches that were ensconced in the walls. From the straight lines formed by the orange points, he appeared to be looking down a hall or corridor.

By the dim flickering light Will could see that the walls were made of uneven bricks of what he thought might be black basalt or obsidian. Whatever it was, it also appeared to drink in the light. That last thought made him shiver.

With the faint light came not only awareness of his surroundings but also memory. He had been on a horse. A great horse with.. someone. He looked around. There was no sign of the horse, just the tall red headed man in black. As if sensing that he was being observed, the Rider turned and glanced at the boy.

"Follow me." The strangely accented voice was coolly emotionless.

Still vaguely uneasy yet feeling strangely compelled, Will did as he was bidden. After all, what choice did he now have? He never once thought of his family, they, and everything else, were forgotten.

The walk down the corridor felt like forever to Will. Neither he nor his companion broke the silence so the only noise was that of their muffled footfalls - a noise that still managed to have a strange reverberating quality as if they were not two figures walking but many. It unnerved Will and once, when he could not resist the temptation of looking back over his shoulder, he had to muffle a small gasp. If it was unnerving walking into the unknown, it was even more so to have seen the torches behind them extinguish themselves of their own accord. Or perhaps it was the dark, endless, empty feeling void that left unlit torches left in its wake. Will felt very small, the light was so fragile in this place. He shivered again and edged closer to the man he was following. The man still made him uneasy but he was infinitively preferable than being alone in the dark.

After what seemed an eternity, the corridor finally came to an end before two great barred iron doors. The man's pace never once slowed and it looked to Will as if he was simply going to try and walk through the doors without opening them.

As the man approached however they slowly swung open inwards and Will found himself entering what his mind could think of as a throne room. The shrouded hall stretched away before him and, at the end, cloaked in even darker shadows, he thought that he could just make out nine great throne-like, yet unoccupied, chairs.

For some reason Will thought that they would go in this direction and illogically dreaded this, though to his relief they did not. The man turned instead to the right and they soon found themselves in a small well lit, comfortably furnished room. It smelt of heady incense and Will found himself relaxing. This was normal, unthreatening.

The man gestured to a cushioned chair. "Sit." He seated himself in another chair. Will did as he was told.

"Welcome to our stronghold young Will. My name is ..Rider and I am one of the members of the ..ruling council here. As this council is made up of very important and powerful people, like all here you will respectfully address any member as my 'My lord' or 'my lady'. You may call me 'my lord' or 'lord Rider'. He chuckled for a moment but the laughter never touched his icy blue eyes. I will be your ..mentor.

The uneasiness that Will had felt before returned only to vanish just as quickly when his new mentor continued, the tone seemingly more like a friendly chitchat.

« Would you like some refreshment? It was a long ride and there is much that we must discuss Will Stanton."

&&&&

Will was seated on a simple chair, the red haired man, the Lord Rider, he mentally corrected himself standing a little distance away. It gave the boy the strange impression of being at school.

"Long ago, the Light, our ancient enemy.." the Rider was saying and Will tingled at the word Light, he felt, he thought, like a sleeper trying to wake from a nightmare - _no, no, dream.. why did I think nightmare?_ – and finding that they cannot. He forced his attention back to his lord. "… took and hid the six Great Signs of Power. These Signs are all in the form of a circle quartered by a cross and it is your task young Will to seek out these hidden signs, for only with their help, and that of certain other objects of Power, can we hope to prevent the Light from taking control of the earth and mankind."

"But sir," No response. "My..er..Lord.." Will regretted his outspokenness instantly as he found cold bright blue eyes starring compellingly into his.

"Yess..?"

Mouth suddenly dry, Will swallowed and continued. The possibility of simply saying 'er nothing' had disappeared as soon as this stern, black clad man had turned his attention upon him. "Isn't er..Light supposed to be good? I mean," he gained a bit of speed, wishing to end his question as soon as possible, "there are so many adjectives like 'holy' etc that have been attached to it.." he trailed away.

The Rider laid a gloved hand on Will's shoulder and Will, for reasons that he did not comprehend, could barely repress a shudder.

"You are but newly awake and you have much to learn. Your first lesson young Will therefore is this; things are not always what they seem. You think that 'Light' equals 'good'? A romantic notion! Taking your examples, 'holy light' is generally used to describe a 'light' around someone or something is not?" He did not wait for any response from Will but continued, "this is not really a 'light' but an aura! And an aura as we know is a sort of personal radiation. Think of it as an intangible fingerprint." The Rider leaned down to look Will in the face, his bright, blue eyes again starring compellingly into Will's blue-grey ones, "Remember boy, sunlight burns, light creates a shadow that can betray you if the light hasn't already done so!"

He straightened up again. "You will be taught more in time. As I was saying,» he continued «it is your task to seek our these signs and it is for this high reason that you were born and are part of us» (was he imagining it or was their barely audible laughter in the air?) . «It is for that that you are called the Sign Seeker, the Seeker of the Great Signs of Power that have for so long remained hidden from us."

Will knew, though he did not know how, it was like the knowledge was embedded inside him, that this strange and somehow frightening man spoke the truth. He _was_ the Sign Seeker, the one destined to search out the Great Signs.. and yet something didn't quite ring true to him.. He frowned, but the vague feeling that something wasn't quite right remained as hauntingly elusive as the now forgotten music that had awoken him that morning.


	3. Chapter 3 First Lesson

« As yet, » the Rider continued, seemingly unaware of his young protégé's internal confusion, « we have only discovered the location of one of the Great Signs. We believe that it is guarded by ..one of the Light's allies. A man called 'Walker'. »

The Rider placed his hand upon Will's forehead, murmuring something and Will's thoughts shattered like crystal reforming themselves into the image of a man; grey haired, greasy bearded, worn out old man in shabby, tore clothing.. »

Will gasped as his lord's hand was withdrawal and slumped forward, the same hand now preventing him from falling. No, he was falling, spiring down into blackness.. He blinked, one of his cheeks suddenly stinging and his lord's cold voice in his ears.

« Find him Will Stanton. Bring me the first of the Great Signs..»

_The first_, Will's confused mind spun wildly, re-seeking its pattern, _but_.. His hand crept ever so slightly to the new 'buckle' on his belt. The Sign of Iron was icy cold.

« Do not fail. Now come.» His lord said no more, he did not need to, for stronger than all in Will's thoughts was now an ominous _or else_.

They had ridden out again later that morning, and were now on a snowy hill that Will did not recognise. Here and there stunted, windswept trees broke the white expanse.

It was a desolate place.

The Rider dismounted and motioned for Will to do the same.

"Now is the time for your first learning. Besides the Things of Power, we have certain natural.. gifts to help us in our long fight against the Light. You will be taught how to make full use of these in due time but for the moment watch and learn."

His lord seemed to grow taller and, pointing to a tree, said a word that Will did not understand, though from the chill and crawling of his skin, he was, in a way, glad that he didn't understand.

That same part of him was doubly glad for his incomprehension as he witnessed the result with cold horror. But it was only a very small whisper and was almost immediately drowned in euphoria of destruction as a brilliant blue streak leapt from the man's hand towards the tree, struck it and caused the tree to explode, its sap frozen.

"Now you boy. See that tree? Think of that tree, its sap. Feel its sap pulsing in the truck and then think of the cold. The cold, the harsh bite of winter, freezing, freezing the sap. Now say the word."

For a moment that small part that was still left of Will rebelled. _No, this is wrong! Don__'__t!_ But the darkness inside him was too strong and, as it had been so many times before during that morning, what little remained of his conscience was quickly overwhelmed and blown away in tatters. For the second time in that place and in that morning, a living tree exploded.

« Very good. Now that rabbit.. »

It had been so easy.

Will stared in cold horror and self-loathing, unable to look away from the broken body of the small creature which had once been a living, breathing being.

Lost, he did not see the look of triumph on the Black Rider's face.

The rabbit's shrill cry and the silence afterwards would haunt Will for a long time.

That evening, alone and lying in bed in his attic room with the light extinguished, a less innocent eleven year old boy cried silently on his birthday, crystalline tears of loss and heartache rolling down his cheeks to stain his pillow.


	4. Chapter 4 Interlude

The day before Christmas Eve dawned grey and the snow started falling again. Or rather the flakes fell more densely where a few hours before they had silently drifted downwards, so few as to be hardly visible. Gradually the Stanton household awoke and came alive, the kitchen and Mrs Stanton its pulsing heart.

Will leaned against the kitchen door frame, his head spinning mildly. He'd been suffering from this strange dizzy spell since the morning of his birthday the day before. He'd briefly managed to forget about it yesterday during his birthday tea and an evening spent opening and playing with his presents.

He closed his eyes, but, like the night before when trying to sleep, that only seemed to aggravate the sensation and he quickly opened them again.

"Will! Breakfast!" yelled his mother. "Oh there you are.." his mother and Barbara were serving a cooked breakfast to the rest of the family. Will did notice that James and Mary hadn't yet come down, but this didn't surprise him. Both of them liked sleeping in. He smiled to himself as he remembered James complaining about being woken up so early the day before. He'd stopped and subsided into a low mutter when he was awake enough to realise that it was his younger brother's birthday.

Will smiled somewhat weakly at his mother and took a seat around the large kitchen table even though he wasn't hungry. He ate a little, but only to please his mother who had seemed to realise that something was amiss with her youngest and was watching him.

"Will honey, are you feeling alright?"

Will gave her a brighter, false smile, «Yes mum.»

His dad, unaware of anything wrong, smiled at him, saving him from possible further questioning by his mother. «Looking forward to your big expedition Will? »

Will grinned at his father, «sure dad.»

«Roger, I'm not sure.. »

«Don't worry Alice, Will will be fine.» Taking his dirty plate to the sink, he whispered to his wife as he passed, « it's only to Slough after all.. »

« Only Slough.. » Mrs Stanton murmured.

She still felt uneasy but this must be natural she told herself. Afterall all mothers care for their children and this was Will's first solo voyage. « Have fun and take care honey. »

Still she irrationally felt, seeing her son close the house door behind him, as if a sort of shadow had settled on her youngest son.

The bus trundled along and Will stared out the window, lost in an inner darkness. He no longer felt dizzy but now the dizziness had been replaced by .. void was the only word for it. He felt like he'd lost something. Trees changed to closely built houses and the bus turned into the main street festooned with coloured lights and began to slow down before stopping near a huddle of shops. Will alighted, noticing that Slough's town square now held a huge, gaily decorated, Christmas tree. The shops were alive with people, no doubt last minute Christmas shoppers hunting down those last elusive gifts.

Smiling, Will put aside his gloomy mood and began the serious quest of finding gifts for his parents and siblings.


	5. Chapter 5  Mission Accomplished!

The bus slowed and halted at the Huntercombe village stop, the doors hissing open. Will and one or two other passengers clambered out into the brisk air, their breath steaming as soon as they had left the warmth of the bus. The prospect and excitement of the morrow being Christmas Eve overruling the other part of his nature. For that first time since his birthday his lord and quest were forgotten and he was a normal boy. And, like a normal boy that had just been Christmas shopping, he counted again the presents that he had bought for his large family as he walked, juggling them from armful to armful as one or two were large and awkward to carry. Five minutes walk from the bus stop and he was passing the old, overgrown road that his family (with the exception of his mother) and many locals knew as Tramps' Alley. He past it then backtracked. While the snow on the main street's footpath where he was walking had all but disappeared, or where a little of it remained, had turned to grey slush from people constantly walking in it, Tramp's Alley still lay pristine, white and unmarked. The eleven boy found this irresistible. After all, how could it hurt?

He blinked and realised that he had stopped. The thought 'how could it hurt?' echoing in his mind. Hadn't he told himself that before… he felt.. he could not remember what. He had the strange impression that it had been important. Well it could not have been that important though he figured, otherwise he would have remembered it.

He started down the white path. It wasn't long however before he came to the conclusion that his rashness in coming this way had not been one of better ideas. His shoes, thick cloth and usually warm, were not designed for snow and his toes were soon freezing and wet. He tingled. The cold steeping through him he supposed. Stepping through the snow was hard work too.

The alley curved slightly, hiding what lay ahead and Will followed it unheedingly, intent only upon getting home to a warm fire as quickly as he could. Then he stopped. There was someone a little way ahead of him, shuffling through the snow. The huddled, bent over figure seemed vaguely familiar. Memory stirred. Hadn't there been a bent old tramp hanging around near the Dawson's farm a couple of days ago? It looked as if could be the same one here. Will started forward again, adjusting his trajectory so that he would not pass too close to the stranger.

Then the old tramp turned and all thoughts about avoiding him vanished. It was the old man from the image that his lord had given him. The old man hadn't registered his presence and Will quickly stepped out of sight behind a nearby tree to ponder what to do. He briefly considered leaping on the tramp, but then discarded that idea except as a last resort. A tramp he may be, and old, but he was still a man and Will still a boy. He had little doubt who would win in a contest of strength. That meant that he would have to trick the tramp, or the Walker as his lord had called him, into giving him the sign that he was seeking. But how? His lord hadn't said much about the Walker, he just planted the image of the old man in Will's mind and told him that the old man was believed to have the sign. So, Will reasoned, if he did have the sign, _why_? The signs had supposedly been hidden from his lord and people by their enemy, the Light.

He supposed that the why really did not really matter. What mattered was that he not fail. His master and mentor, the Lord Rider, had been very clear upon that point. Squaring his shoulders, Will dumped his parcels, stepped out from behind the tree and approached the tramp.

"Hello Walker." The old man spun around and eyed Will suspiciously.

"Who'e you? Wha' yer want?" He peered at Will. "No, you can't be him.."

Will thought furiously. He didn't know who "he" was but it was obvious that the Walker was expecting someone. On an impulse he said "I am the Sign-Seeker. You have one of the signs that I must find. Give it to me."

The Walker peered at him, mumbling something inaudible. It was all Will could do not to flinch, the old man stank, his rancid breath overwhelming Will's nostrils.

"You might be him, you have the look of an Old One.."

Will kept his face as straight as possible. Who or what was an Old One?

"Look," he said softly, persuasively, "I have one of the signs already.. How could I have gotten hold of it if I wasn't the Sign-Seeker. Walker, give me the sign."

The Walker stood staring at him, irresolute yet with longing etched in the lines of his face. He looked at the dull black sign of iron on Will's belt.

"I think that you're an Old One and yet.."

Will sighed inwardly and yet rejoiced all at once. It looked like the old man wanted to make things hard for himself.

"Walker," he said quietly, dangerously. "You have ten seconds to give me the sign that you carry." He pointed a hand, five fingers spread wide, at a tree and said a word which seemed to writhe the very air. The tree exploded. "Or you are next old man."

The Walker stared at him, then at the tree. Then he ran. Will smiled a hunter's smile. Once again he spread five fingers of a hand wide and said a word. This time it was only to catch his victim out of Time and not to destroy. Will trotted over to were the old man had been caught in mid stride. As fascinating as it was to observe someone in arrested movement, he concentrated on his quest.

Absolutely the last thing that he wished was to face his lord's ire.

The Walker's coat pockets yielded nothing, as did the unbuttoning of his tattered coat. Then a flash of inspiration came to him and he felt around the dirty neck. Sure enough there was a chain and upon pulling it out he saw a large, golden cross quartered circle. He took it, grinning triumphantly. His lord would be pleased. Pleasing his lord was the only thing that Will Stanton now cared about.


	6. Chapter 6 Homecoming

« Will Stanton ». There was a deep, unfamiliar voice behind him, it made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. Slowly, almost afraid to, Will turned to meet the voice. A tall man with deep sunk, dark eyes and wild white hair stood in the middle of Tramp's Alley. Will stared at him, mesmerised by the deep sunk, yet burning eyes.

« Will Stanton come to us, you are sick. Will.. »

Something in the man terrified Will and at the same time relieved him. It was as if he was meeting an old friend yet he was sure that he'd never seen this gentleman before.

He wanted to go to him, a stray child to be comforted, to be _healed_..

Then as suddenly as it had come, the spell broke. Gone was the sense of recognition. The place felt like it was calling to him, wanting to make him something else. _Come back_, it seemed to whisper.

The precious Sign of Bronze gently slipped from now nervous fingers, though no spell was in use. Bright gold flashed briefly in the late winter sunshine before being swallowed by white..

Will's eyes darted hither and there looking for an escape route.  
His only thought was that he must escape from this place and this man at all costs. The black garbed horseman, his lord and master (but that can't be right! that tiny part of him tried to scream as he thought that), had warned him that the enemy would try and possess him, tempt him..   
He was terrified of the enemy, of the strange affinity that he felt. But then he was terrified of his lord and 'people'. Especially of his lord.  
How he escaped from that dreadful old man he never knew. One minute he was desperately looking for an escape route and the next he found himself crashing through the trees and undergrowth in desperate flight. 

Thick snow and treacherous drifts hindered him, buried tree roots tried to trip him and bare, leafless branches to grasp frenziedly at him. Time seemed to slow, snow sucking to his shoes, like some alien creature seeking to trap him in its snare.

Blind with panic and hounded by unknown demons, he never once turned his head to see if he was pursued.

Cold wetness brought him back to his senses and he found himself lying face first in snow, victim no doubt of a buried root or stone. Now that he had calmed down, he felt physically and mentally exhausted. And frightened. He was somewhere in the dim woods that ran alongside Tramps' Alley but he didn't know where. Nor he thought, pushing back a newly bubbling panic, did anyone else. He knew he should get up, it was just that his limbs felt so heavy ..

It took an eternity for him to slowly gather his spent forces and push himself to his knees.

He hugged himself shuddering, but not from the cold. In blurred remembrance, he remembered dropping the Sign. His lord was going to be furious when he found out that Will had failed..

Gradually Will became aware of a icy sensation in his legs and knees and slowly got to his feet. Looking around, he saw no one. Behind him there was only one set of tracks, his own, that were just visible in the dim light.

Not having any other landmark, he started following them.

His flight had taken him a goodly distance into the woods. It was silent and he had to constantly resist the temptation to look over his shoulder nervously. He jumped when he heard a loud crack nearby, but it was just a branch protesting under the weight of piled up snow. After about fifteen or so minutes of tortured nerves, he noticed that there were a few less trees and a little more dim daylight.

A little way ahead a shaft of sunlight that had somehow managed to pierce the cloud cover and trees, turned a patch of snow to silver and surrounded a pale beech tree with a pearly aureole. Will's breath caught slightly at this suddenly created beauty, like a magical door to a faerie realm.

The tree in particular caught his attention. Being winter its branches were bare and so the sunlight was brightest towards the crown of the tree. One could almost imagine the tree having silver, ethereal leaves. Silver leaves and silver bark, a tree of silver.. A part of Will stirred - the same part that had not found it strange to awake upon his eleventh birthday into a different time, the part that had told him not to accept anything from, or ride with, the man who he had now learnt was his lord and master – and tingled when he thought about the tree.

Then there were words drifting into his mind. They made no sense and he was sure that he had never heard or read them anywhere before and yet they was elusively familiar, like the old man on the road. He found himself staring at the tree and realised that he was muttering the phrase ".. shall find the light at last, silver on the tree".

His skin tingled with a crawling sensation similar to pins and needles and all at once he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He shook his head like a dreamer waking from a long dream and then heard the same haunting music that had awoken him on the morning of his eleventh birthday only a few days before. Before him, two great carved wooden doors materialised and slowly opened to reveal two figures; one an elderly lady leaning on a cane and the other the tall, white haired man that he had run from so desperately only a little while before. There was no fear this time, only a sense of welcome and kinship.

The old lady smiled gently at Will and, like the ray of sunlight in wood, brought some beauty to the world. Her words cocooned him and swept away any apprehension that might have been left.

"Welcome home Will Stanton."

This time everything felt right.

End

(A/N: I hoped you all liked it!)


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